


I like it when we play 1950

by GayaIsANerd



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Artist Even, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, No angst in sight, Slow Dancing, Student Isak, set in current time (just in case the title was confusing sry), this is soft and gentle only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 03:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayaIsANerd/pseuds/GayaIsANerd
Summary: The one where Isak and Even meet in a botanical garden





	I like it when we play 1950

The first time Isak sees him, it’s summer. It had been a beautiful day, not too hot but warm enough to sit outside in only a shirt. Isak had to do some readings for his classes and since Eskild was making too much noise -as usual- he’d decided to go out to study. He didn’t really know what brought him to the botanical garden, maybe just the memory of his mom and him walking amongst the flowers.

He walks around for a bit, silently quizzing himself on the latin names of the plants he recognizes, stopping here and there to look at the names of those he doesn’t. 

He inhales deeply when he reaches the Scent Garden, letting the sweet smell of the flowers invade his senses in the best possible way. The garden is blissfully empty, and Isak makes his way up to the gazebo, letting his eyes roam over the multitude of flowers. He settles down on a bench, sitting sideways, feet pulled up on the bench, book in his lap.

For a while, he gets lost in his textbook, highlighting words here and there, re-reading passages that give him trouble. Until he gets disturbed by a voice.

“Can I sit here?” 

Isak looks up into the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. The boy in front of him is tall and slender, hair up in a quiff, slightly toned arms peeking out from under a plaid shirt. 

When Isak doesn’t answer, the boy raises his eyebrows in question, tilting his head towards the seat at Isak’s feet.

“Oh!” Isak says, immediately pulling his feet off the bench, quickly brushing it off, “yeah, of course, yes.”

The boy smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, full lips stretched. “I’d sit on the other side, but you have the best view,” he explains, as he pulls out what seems to be a sketchbook and a case of pencils.

“Oh,” Isak says again, nodding.

“Even,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand.

“Isak.”

“I’ll leave you to it, Isak,” Even nods towards Isak’s book. Isak can’t help but notice how nice his name sounds in Even’s mouth.

*

The next week, Isak finds himself on the same bench, leg bouncing nervously. He tells himself he’s just nervous for the test, he tells himself he’s not here in hopes to see Even again, he tells himself it doesn’t matter whether he shows up or not.

He ignores the way his treacherous heart thumps when Even shows up and immediately settles down next to him, smiling sweetly.

They go on for a bit like that, meeting weekly, never really talking besides saying hello and goodbye. It’s driving Isak nuts in the best way possible. 

It changes one day when Isak realises he hasn’t been hearing the scratching of Even’s pencil for a while. He looks over at Even to see him frowning down at the paper, his lip pulled between his teeth as he looks up and down from the paper to the sight in front of them.

“Are-” Isak starts, and Even’s head immediately whips over to him. Isak clears his throat, starts again, “Are you okay?”

Even sighs, dropping his pencil on the paper and slouching down. “I can’t get it to look like I want to.”

Isak twitches in his seat, bites on the inside of his cheek as he debates what he’s going to say next. When Even looks back over to him, despair clearly written in the sky blue of his eyes, Isak swallows. “Can I see?”

The sketchbook is dropped in his lap, and Even pulls up his legs on the bench as if to protect himself from Isak’s judgement.

He shouldn’t have worried, as Isak is stunned by the image in front of him. It’s clear Even is drawing the Scent Garden, but it’s not a realistic representation of it. Instead, the flower’s colors flow from their petals, swirling into each other. The trees seem alive, branches taking impossible forms as they seem to shelter the whole garden. Isak thinks he sees dark clouds behind the bright green of the trees’ leafs, but he’s not entirely sure. Then he notices something else, or someone else, just a rough sketch of a person standing in the far back of the garden, face tilted up to the branches. 

“Wow, Even, this is…” he turns to the other boy. Even’s eyes are wide as they take in Isak’s face. “This is gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” Even’s voice sounds tiny, afraid and Isak suddenly wishes he could hug him.

“Yeah,” Isak says, turning back to the drawing. “It’s amazing.”

*

After that, they talk about everything. Their school, their families, their friends. One day, Even shows up without sketchbook, blue circles under his eyes, and he tells Isak about his diagnosis. Isak doesn’t study that day either, just lets Even talk and wishes he could be brave enough to hold his hand.

*

 

When it gets colder, they start meeting up on one of the benches inside the greenhouses. 

Today, the windows of the Victoria greenhouse are fogged up with condensation, the sounds of the slow bubbling of the water and Even’s pencil scratching over the paper a perfect companion to the soft music playing on Even’s phone. 

Even hums along to the song playing, his eyes flicking up and down from his page to the view he’s drawing, lip pulled between his teeth, a crease between his eyebrows Isak’s fingers are itching to rub away.

When the song switches, Even’s pencil stops moving, and a slow smile appears on his lips.

“This would be a good song to slow dance to,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows towards Isak.

“Ha!” Isak says, trying to keep his cool, quickly ducking his head back down to his book. 

“No, I’m serious!” Even says. He sings along to the song, his deep voice adding to the singers higher one. “Isak,” he pokes him with his pencil, smiling widely when Isak looks back up. “Come on.”

“I’ve never slow danced before,” Isak admits, “so I guess I wouldn’t know.” He tries to get back to his book but is interrupted by Even’s exaggerated gasp.

“Isak Valtersen! You cannot mean that!” when all Isak does is shrug, Even gasps again and stands up, pulling Isak with him. “Let’s change that right now.”

“Even,” Isak whines, trying to sit back down, but Even just pulls him closer.

“Humour me?” he asks, and honestly Isak knows Even knows it’s a dirty trick. No one can say no to Even when he looks like that, all sincere excitement and softness.

Isak’s sigh is apparently enough of an answer for Even to quickly grab his phone and restarting the song. He pulls Isak close, guiding one of Isak’s hands on his shoulder, holding the other while his own free hand settles on Isak’s hip.

They dance in slow circles, the room too small to properly dance. 

“And twirl,” Even half-whispers, twirling Isak under his arm. Isak softly bumps into Even as he gets pulled back in, making them both laugh, faces inches from each other.

The song fades out, and Even squeezes Isak’s waist before letting him go. 

Isak wobbles slightly on his legs as he sits back down on the bench, accidentally pushing Even’s sketchbook to the ground. As he bends to pick it up, he sees the drawing Even is working on.

Like last time, it’s like reality times a hundred. The lilies reaching impossibly high, their flowers reaching for the ceiling like fingers. All forms of green and pink swirling over the page. The water of the pond in the middle of the greenhouse a perfect mirror, overflowing the sides, and wetting the floor. And in the middle of the mirrored pond, a boy, his head tilted down, brow furrowed in concentration.

Isak looks up to find Even already looking at him, lip pulled between his teeth.

“Is that me?” he asks, softly tapping the boy in the drawing. 

Even nods.

“You drew me?” Isak looks back down, bites the inside of his cheek so hard he feels it might start bleeding.

“I’ve been drawing you since the first day we met,” Even whispers.

“No you haven’t,” Isak says, “I saw that first drawing. I wasn’t in it.”

Even smiles, it’s a nervous smile, barely there, “You were, just a sketch, then. But you were. I as having trouble putting you on paper.” He walks closer, squats down to turn the pages to the first drawing. 

Isak can see it now, the person, himself, standing on the edge of the garden. 

“After we started talking,” Even says, voice slow, “I didn’t have that issue anymore.” He waits until Isak looks up at him, “I couldn’t stop drawing you.” He turns another page.

It’s another explosion of colour, this time Isak is more to the center, smiling at something to his left. Another page, another view, another Isak. On and on. Sometimes just sketches of flowers, and a rough sketch of Isak somewhere in the middle of it all.

“I’m sorry if this is creepy,” Even says after it’s been quiet for a while, “I know I come off as intense and -”

“I think this is a good song to slow dance to,” Isak interrupts him, softly putting the sketchbook down before pulling Even up.

Even doesn’t say anything, letting Isak lead this time.

“And twirl,” Isak says, making Even twirl under his arm before pulling him even closer. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, waiting a beat for Even to stop him before leaning in.

Their kiss is soft, a slow meeting of lips, Even’s under lip pulled between Isak’s. They pull back to breathe, foreheads resting against each other.

“I love the drawings,” Isak says, making Even lean back in, softly pecking him on the lips.

“I’ll make more,” Even says, and Isak smiles.

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments give me life <3
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr](http://greathalesonfire.tumblr.com/)   
> 


End file.
